


here in my heart and mind and memories

by favefangirl



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hinted Alcoholism, M/M, Marijuana, Prompt Fill, Recreational Drug Use, References to Sex, Tumblr Prompt, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, song prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 12:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13570797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/favefangirl
Summary: goodbye? oh no, please. can't we go back to page one and do it all over again?-winnie the poohby death we did part...





	here in my heart and mind and memories

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt by [frerard-obsessed](https://frerard-obsessed.tumblr.com/)  
>  **The song Basket Case by Green Day but i don't have a prompt, sorry :(**
> 
> I know that generally Basket Case is pretty upbeat but I liked how that contrasted with the dark lyrics.  
> Also I found some really gorgeous acoustic-y versions that I loved and based this off of that.
> 
> [original](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NUTGr5t3MoY)   
>  [cover one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TxPUknC0IPc)   
>  [cover two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecqcMrkGx0s)   
>  [cover three](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fQe1aP6Hz4)
> 
> The title comes from the poem, When I Think of Death by Maya Angelou which I really liked.

It's the lazy Sunday afternoons which really do it.

Post-coital, the acrid scent of weed in the air, Monty's weight on my side.

He liked to kiss my neck and I liked the attention.

(I liked to wear his bruises like a badge of honour to tell the rest of the world that Monty was mine and I was his.)

One of his legs draped over my legs, one of his hands on my chest, over my heart.

One of my hands over the ashtray so the cigerette ash didn't burn either of his, the other resting on his waist to keep him close.

I would tell him he was beautiful, he would tell me I was stoned.

He was still beautiful whether I was stoned or not.

It was the best part of my week.

It's the lazy Sunday afternoons which really drive me to drink.

Miller won't serve me after three bottles, but he leaves around tenish and Raven understands me so she doesn't give me a limit.

I can't smoke anymore.

It reminds me of him, of me holding the roll ups to his lips for him to take a drag while he played guitar for me.

He played me whole symphonies.

I smell weed on the streets and want to cry.

Sundays are the worst.

There's his phantom scent on my sheets which drives me insane but makes me reluctant to wash them.

I think I'm going crazy.

Miller suggested a shrink, but I can't bare to speak about it.

And I don't want a complete stranger knowing how special Monty was, and how I never told him that I loved him enough.

It hurts.

Everything hurts now.

There's been no post-coital since.

Murphy says that's part of the problem, that I need to get back out there, meet someone new.

If nothing else fuck someone new.

The thought of someone else in my bed, of someone else kissing my neck, resting their hand on my heart - it makes me want to vomit.

Monty may be gone but my heart is still all his.

They say death was instantaneous, but how long really is an instant.

How long did it take for the cars to collide and his lungs to implode?

Was there pain?

Did he think of me before he died?

Was I the last thing running through his mind?

Does it make me a horrible person that I hope so?

It feels like I took him for granted.

He was always there, always by my side, it never occurred to me that one day he just wouldn't be.

One day he would just be gone and I would be alone, left to Jack Daniels and bottling up my feelings.

Miller says Monty would hate to see me like this and although he's probably right, I would take arguing with him about my drinking habits over him being just gone.

That's what he is, just gone.

Just not here anymore.

Just like that.

Last Sunday I sat on my floor with the empty Vodka bottle beside me hugging his guitar, burning incense in the hope of getting rid of the weed smell.

In the hopes of getting rid of his smell.

I put on one of his shirts, his scent still clinging to the fabric - a comfort and a menace - and tried to play a few bars.

It sounded so bad I hoped Monty would walk through the door and chastise me for hurting his guitar.

He didn't.

I cried even though I wasn't surprised.

Yesterday Raven told me about Wick.

He was her Monty.

She told me it was cancer and I told her she was lucky.

They got the time to prepare, to make the final decisions, to say goodbye.

Three days after Monty died I had to try and pick the music to play at his funeral and realised I couldn't think of a single song he would approve of.

Our goodbye was said by his grave for only the insects to hear.

It was pretty one sided.

For once it was me putting in all the effort, not him.

There's a bitter irony in that.

I asked Raven how she coped.

My heart still sinks every time I think about her answer.

She doesn't.

Neither do I, I think.

I keep thinking I see him in the streets, but every time I turn my head there's no one there.

I know he's gone but there's still this part of me that says he's just somewhere hiding.

I meant to be following the clues which lead to him but instead I'm drowning in self pity.

I know there are no clues, I know Monty would never do something like that, it's just not his style.

And this is what my life has been reduced to: alcohol, shouting at bar tenders and dreading what next Sunday brings.

It feels like Monty is everywhere.

But he's playing symphonies in the stars now.

Or something like that.

Wherever he is it's so much more beautiful now that he's there.

I don't think I can ever let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm kind of experimenting with styles and I'm not sure how I feel about this but oh well. Leave a comment to say how you felt.
> 
> **Prompts?**  
>  So, I have severe writers block at the minute and so in order to try and stimulate my writing juices (that is a weird sentence, I apologise) I’m opening myself up to prompts and requests for writing. I don’t really write smut, but I can try should the prompt inspire me. Also, I will try to write Supernatural but I mostly know what happened in season one and whatever is fanon so perhaps don’t suggest those unless there’s a really good prompt you think of. I’m looking for shorter stuff, one-shots only. Some may inspire a multi-chap fic, but that’s not really what I’m hoping for right now. If there’s a certain ship or fandom you’re interested in just ask and I’ll see what I can do. If you're interested please message me on one of the social media listed below, it is muchly appreciated!  
> ~or~  
>  **PROMPT IDEA**  
>  Send me a song and a prompt!  
> t’s a cool way to hear about new music and I’ll actually get some writing done this year!  
> Lemme know in the comments or on the social media listed below!
> 
> If you want to message me my Instagram is @Favefangirl and my Tumblr is [nebulous--bounds](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nebulous--bounds) I'm more than happy to answer any questions, maybe fill any prompts or just generally converse with you lovely people. Be sure to follow me, too, if you want! I'm mostly multi-fan and I blog a lot about writing (especially on Tumblr). You can also follow me on Pinterest [here](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/Favefangirl/).
> 
> If you enjoyed it you might want to leave a kudos or a comment. Or if you didn't enjoy it. Please, dear God, comment - I am so lonely... I also accept concrit if there's something about this that's bugging you that you wanted to tell me, just make sure it's constructive.
> 
> It would be really cool if you read some of the other works in the prompt series, y'know, if you've got a few minutes.
> 
> Have a wonderful existence!


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